


Flowers For Your Grave

by Jim Hawkins-Sudayev (ChildOfSolace)



Category: Anastasia (1997), How to Train Your Dragon (Movies), Rise of the Guardians (2012), Thumbelina (1994), Treasure Planet (2002)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Murder, Mystery, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:41:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26579245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChildOfSolace/pseuds/Jim%20Hawkins-Sudayev
Summary: NYPD Homicide detective, James Pleiades Hawkins, interrogates best-selling author Dimitri Sudayev in a case of a murder victim with strong elements referencing the author's books.It escalates, and Dimitri ends up hounding after the detective under the guise of assistance to the case.
Relationships: Dimitri | Dmitry (Anastasia 1997 & Broadway)/Jim Hawkins, Jim Hawkins/Jack Frost (Guardians of Childhood)
Kudos: 16
Collections: CASTLE AU





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not planning to do all episodes because I have other wips that really needs attention(kinda already regretting adding more to that lmao), so some select episodes that would relevant to building the pairs here.

**Prologue**

A landscape. Sand colored, stretching to a horizon of black. Very serene. And then upon closer inspection, there is a bead of red, rolling like a teardrop. 

The landscape is a body. Rose petals tumble slowly through space, landing on naked skin. Gloved hands place sunflowers on the victim's eyes, a young woman in her early twenties.

Satisfied with the presentation, the gloved hand picks up a suitcase and leaves the scene.

───────

> **Dimitri Sudayev**

"Murder...Mystery...The macabre." Intoned Agent Vladimir, one of the top employees of Grand Duchess Publishing. "What is it about a hard-boiled detective, and the cold steel of a gun that keeps our bedside lamps burning into the wee hours of the morning? However the spell is cast, tonight we honor a master of the form and celebrate the launch of ' _Vengeful Midnight_ '"

This is not your Average author publishing party. Waiters are dressed as murder victims as they serve drinks, while hardcore hotties mingle with middle-aged men. Around the room, giant placards advertise Dimitri Sudayev's latest potboiler, _Vengeful Midnight._

Aforementioned best selling author currently holding a sharpie at the ready as one giggling young beauty pulls her dress top aside. Dimitri grinned and signs his name just above the bra line. "Call me when you’re ready to wash that off." He winked at her.  
  
Vlad glances over in time to witness this. A fleeting glimpse of expectant exasperation crosses his face. He switches back to a smile quickly enough, however, before continuing. "...the stunning conclusion to his best-selling mystery series, _Evie Knight_. Ladies and Gentlemen, the Master of the Macabre..." He paused for effect. "Dimitri Sudayev."  
  
The audience applauds. Dimitri poses for pictures with fans and autographs copies of his novel as well as various body parts.

───────

> **Jim Hawkins**

**[09:43, HALLWAY AND APARTMENT, DINING ROOM - NIGHT]**

Jim headed up the hallway, past Cops in Uniforms interviewing neighbors, to apartment 217. A couple of plainclothes were going over their notes. Detectives Jackson Overland and Hiccup Haddock were already there, waiting for him. Crime scene techs took pictures of the victim's body. A red head with flowing long hair. She lies on the dining room table, nude, but covered head-to-toe in rose petals. Covering her eyes are two sunflowers. Jim crouched to look over the victim's body.

"Who is she?"

"Ariel Atlantica." Hiccup answered, referring to his notes. "24. Grad student at NYU, part of the Environmental program, specifically projects reducing water pollution."

Jim hummed, surveying the place once more. "Nice place for a student." he commented. "A bit too nice, actually."

Jack shrugged. "Daddy's money." he said. "Neighbors called to complain about the music. When she didn't answer, they had the Super check on her."

"No signs of struggle." Jim noted, doing a once over to the room. Not counting the dead body, and flower petals scattered about, the room was clean. No blood splattered anywhere or furniture thrown off its place. Either she was killed somewhere else, this could mean one other thing. "He knew her."

Another man in his mid-twenties walks in. It was Jack's cousin and their regular M.E., Jamie Bennett. "Even bought her flowers." He mentioned, "Who says romance is dead?"  
  
"Definitely not Astrid," Hiccup quipped, smirking as he wiggled his eye brows at Jamie. "How was last Saturday night?"  
  
Jamie rolled his eyes, pointing a pen at him. "I'll tell you if you tell me how your doing my cousin."

"Dude," Jack scowled, turning red while Hiccup just looked amused. "This is so not the time."

Jamie snickered, "He started it."

"Guys," Jim snapped his fingers, gesturing to the body. "Dead body, here. Person who put them here, not. How about we find the asshole who's done it instead of talking about who's doing Jack's?"

"Hey!" Hiccup and Jamie both laughed at Jack's expense. The white haired cop grumbled as he glared at Jim. "Speaking of, about time someone gets laid, too. Gotta put that sexual tension somewhere, buddy."

Jim fixed that response with a glare. "Fuck off," He snapped, "Now tell me, what’d he give her besides roses?"  
  
"Well," Jamie shrugged, before he tweezes away flowers petals revealing the gunshots. "We have here two shots to the chest. Small caliber."

Now they had a murder weapon prospect identified, next would be to find a murder suspect. Jim checked the body once more, taking in the detail from the presentation. He was almost certain he had their next lead. "Does this look familiar to anyone?"  
  
"No," Hiccup shook his head, "but I'm not the one with a thing for freaky ones. Just give me a John shot Jessica over Jessie so I can get my call, go home and get Jack on bed."

Jack kicked him on the shin. "That's it, you're on the couch tonight."

"That's sexy too."

Jack rolled his eyes, giving Jamie a look. "See what I have to deal with?"

"Hey, don't look at me." The M.E. snorted, "you're dating him."  
  
Jim sighed, already feeling this was gonna be a long night. "Sure, I'd like an easy case any day too, even a 'no case' with lives unnecessarily lost." He conceded, "but these damn freaky ones require more. Luckily, they also reveal more." He walked over to the body laid out once more. "I mean, look at how he left her: covered modestly."

"So?"

Jim shrugged, "So, despite all of the effort, all of the preparation, you won't find any evidence of sexual abuse." He said.  
  
"You really get that from just this?" Hiccup raised a brow.  
  
"This, plus I've seen it before."

Jack stared at his colleague, raising a brow. "You've seen it before? Where?"

"Roses on her body, sunflowers on her eyes?" Jim hummed, looking at them expectantly and waiting for them to connect the dots. They didn't. He groused, "Don't you guys read?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note - I couldn't think of anyone else to replace Alexis in this AU so I changed Gina into Vlad (though I wanted him originally to play Martha's role but I have a new plan for that) so now Cornelius is Alexis and Dimitri's son.

**[10:23, ROOFTOP, PUBLISHING PARTY - NIGHT]**

_Flash. Flash._

Vlad and Dimitri stand for the photographers. The older man speaks through his gritted smile. If the photographers could hear the hushed conversation the two were exchanging, they didn't comment on it.

"If you don't mind me asking, Dimitri." Vlad started, "what were you thinking killing off Evie Knight, the best protagonist you've ever written in ages?"

Dimitri hummed thoughtfully, pretending to think about that. "Are you asking as my bloodsucking publisher," he took off his shades, "or as my bloodsucking ex-wife's godfather?"

"Oh, is that what you’re doing?" Vlad raised a brow, "Punishing Anya through me?"

"Of course not, it's a shame you're in the crossfire. Cause I like you, Vlad." Dimitri cooed, patting the man's cheek once. "also a shame that I originally based agent Evie's personality off her, but what can you do?" He looked to the side, "Oh, is that Scotch?"  
  
Vlad sighed, following after him. "All I'm saying is that you could’ve retired her, or crippled, hell you could've had her join the damn ballet. But no." He huffed, "You had a bullet put through the golden goose's head."  
  
"Yeah, real messy, too. Big exit wound." Dimitri snickered, "But don't worry, Evie Knight is not the Golden Goose here. I am." He said haughtily, "I wrote half a dozen best-sellers before him. What makes you think I’m going to stop now?"  
  
Vlad snorted at the man's arrogance, "Oh, I don’t know." He huffed, "How 'bout we go to the fact that the new book was due nine weeks ago?"  
  
"You can’t rush genius." The author responded with missing a beat.

Vlad raised a brow, "Hope that's really it," he said. "Sources tell me you haven’t written in months."

"That’s ridiculous." Dimitri laughed once, but a quirk on the corner of his mouth suggests concern. "They're definitely wrong."

Vlad sighed, patting him on the back. "They better be." he said. "If I don’t have a new manuscript on my desk in the next three weeks, Ms. Romanov is having Grand Duchess prepared to demand the return of your advance."

"She wouldn’t dare." Dimitri balked. "She..."

"She said not to try her," Vlad interjected, "Only reason she hasn't come on you so hard is because of Cornelius and she didn't want him to spite her for being so hard on you. Just as long as you don't give her a reason to."  
  
Dimitri frowned as Vlad walked started to walk away to join the rest of the party. "Tell her I already returned that advance." he huffed, "I spent it divorcing her!" 

───────

**[04:51, EXT. ROOFTOP PUBLISHING PARTY, BY THE BAR - NIGHT]**

Sophie Smirnov, a classic broad in the Broadway mold, a former actress on the Great White Way, stands by the bar. She was an accomplished playwright until she resigned from that career and took up fashion design. Now, she rents a room in the condo unit owned by her godchild. Cornelius Sudayev sits at the bar in an expensive Italian suit, studying from a world history text book. He used to be a particularly headstrong and big shot teenager. After his parents messy divorce, however, he grew up a bit more. Especially after seeing the impact it had on his dad who had no other family backing him up unlike his mom had the entire Romanov group. 

Cornelius loved them both, of course. But he was closer with his dad since Dimitri had been around more at home when he was growing up since a writer's job allowed him that luxury. His mom was usually busy in meetings at the many companies they ran, the Publishing house being only one of them.

Not to mention, he wanted his dad to know he had some family even if it was just him. If Anastasia hadn't step in her grandmother's way in behalf of her son, Dimitri might've had to give up his unit too.

"Oh my, sweetie, how studious." Sophie chimed in, "doing homework at a party?"

"I have a test next week." Cornelius responded.

"Well, as it is certainly commendable, please don't forget you're young once; have fun and all." The blond said, before turning towards the bar, "Excuse me? Something a little bubbley, please."

Suddenly, Dimitri stepped in beside her. "Make it two." he said.

"Oh, Dimitri dear, there you are." Sophie hummed, "How was opening remarks?"

Dimitri ignored her for a moment, ruffling his son's hair a bit. "Agh, dad." He huffed, pulling the hand off his head. "Cut it out."

"Hello to you too, sport." The author quipped, before finally turning to the blond woman. "So, my dear lady Sophie," he drawled before narrowing his eyes. "Did you tell Vlad I was having trouble writing?"

"Oh, well, we were talking as we usually do, flirting I'd say and..." With Dimitri's raised brow at her direction, she pursed her lips. "I may have a little too much to drink and mentioned something about spending your days moping in your underwear waiting for post time at Belmont, but speaking from experience I must say, it’s expected."

Dimitri sighed, massaging his forehead. "We had a deal. I let you live with us, but you don’t talk about my work."

"In my defense, sweetheart, it's not so much that I had something to talk about." Sophie pointed out weakly, "You haven’t done any since I moved in."

Even Cornelius looked disapproving now, "Auntie!"

"Well, he hasn’t!"

Dimitri regained her attention, "Whatever I have and haven’t done, I would just appreciate it if you wouldn’t share it with anyone who works for my ex-wife."

"Oh, come now, it's not a..." Sophie trailed off, raising a brow suddenly as she sees a woman getting to friendly with Vlad. "Hang on, sweetie. I need to take care of something." She took her purse and went off.

Dimitri rolled his eyes, taking a seat next to his son. "Prepare bail money, murder isn't gonna be happening in my books tonight."

"Not that it has for weeks either, dad." Cornelius quipped, "I mean, aunt Sophie had a point there."

Dimitri narrowed his eyes, "Yeah, well, that point might also be the reason I strangle her." He shook his head, taking the flutes of champagne meant for him and Sophie. But since the blond woman left, he settled hers in front of his son.

"You know I’m only fifteen right?"

"About the right age I tried my first, too."

The young teenager smirked, "Yes, and that turned out so well," he quipped, moving the flute away from him. "Didn't it, dad?"

"Ouch, but touché." Dimitri conceded, "Seriously though, when I was your age..." He stopped himself, "Wait, I can’t tell that story. It's wildly inappropriate... Which, oddly, is my point. Don’t you want to have wildly inappropriate stories that you can’t tell your children?"

Cornelius raised a brow, "I think you’ve enough of those for both of us." He said. "And I think so far, as far as wildly inappropriate stories are concerned, I think that one time I caught you and mom doing it before the divorce as some kind of catharsis hate sex... Yeah, I'm good with that being the only one for now."

"Okay, not what I had in mind and please never bring that up again." Dimitri groaned, "But that's not the point, kiddo. Life should be an adventure. You want to know why I killed Evie?"

"Apart from her being based off mom?"

Dimitri rolled his eyes, "Okay, memo to me; overshare with you less."

"Correction, drunk overshare with me less." Cornelius snickered, before making a vague hand gesture. "So, Evie?"

"Yes, well, with her, there were no more surprises." He didn't bother adding it was the same with Anastasia. Cornelius probably knew that too, but it didn't need to be mentioned. "I knew exactly what was going to happen every moment of every scene. It’s just like these parties. They become so predictable. ' _I’m your biggest fan_ ', or ' _Where do you get your ideas_?' and..."

Cornelius finished for him, "And the ever popular, ' _Will you sign my chest_?'"

"That one," Dimitri smiled mischievously, "I don’t mind so much."

"Yeah, well, as the son who just experienced his parents divorce recently, I do." The teenager rolled his eyes.

Dimitri laughed once, giving him a curt apologetic nod. "Humor me kiddo." He said, "In all honesty, though, I would like someone to come up to me and say something new."

"Mr. Sudayev?"

Expectantly, Dimitri pulled off the pen resting in his son's hand, who gave him a indignant look as a response, before turning around to meet the voice that called him.

"Where would you like it?"

An unimpressed brow is raised, as a slightly shorter brunette stands with a badge held out. "Detective James Hawkins. NYPD." He said without missing a beat, as if it's almost instinctive. "We need to ask you a few questions about a murder that took place earlier tonight."

"That’s new, sort of anyway." Cornelius made a look, taking his pen back, "what did you do this time, dad?"

Dimitri balked, staring at the brunette in front of him. He looked a bit familiar and then he realized it. "Jim?!"


	3. Chapter 3

**[11:03, POLICE STATION, INTERROGATION ROOM - NIGHT]**

Dimitri sits in an NYPD interrogation room while waiting for the detective that brought him in. He was really taken aback that his Freshmen college room mate was now a detective. He was definitely not the type who usually followed rules to the book nor what Jim was majoring on the last time he saw the guy. Which was, in fact, a business course. Dimitri was only taking up that course since he and Anastasia were already arranged to be married and they expected him to have a role in the company in the future.

Then he discovered that his love for writing wasn't something he wanted to remain as a simple hobby and he shifted, prompting a room mate and college change. The Romanovs wouldn't fund his education anymore due to that, but Anastasia had supported him on his choice hence Evie Knight drafts started. Thankfully, Sophie had stepped in and, as she was still a Play wright at that time, supported his studies all the way.

Before he even graduated, he published a few books and signed a contract to start after graduation as Anastasia had pushed for the company to open a publishing house division as well.

Luckily, the divorce happened when the Publishing house was already popular. It would take Dimitri a while to find another publishing company who would sign him on if the Romanovs ever decided to pull the plug with him. While their divorce was messy, he was glad that Anastasia didn't lose her heart entirely through it all. After all, she still fought her family that they wouldn't be bias in their treatment of Dimitri just because he initiated the split. 

Then, Jim entered the room while carrying some files. "Mr. Sudayev..." He started, "You've got quite the rap sheet for a best-selling author. Disorderly conduct, uh, resisting arrest...."

"Boys will be boys." Dimitri shrugged before smirking. "You would know."

Jim made a look, but didn't take bait to that. "Says here that you stole a police horse?"

"Borrowed."

"In the nude?"

"It was during a heat wave."  
  
Jim narrowed his eyes, placing the files on the table forcefully. "And every time the charges were dropped."

"What can I say?" Dimitri hummed, "Mayor Labouff is a fan. But if it makes you feel any better," he leaned forward, pausing for effect, before saying. "I’d be happy to let you spank me."

Jim glared at him, and Dimitri kept his smirk in place. Or more like, it was frozen in place. He forgot how Jim could really work a mean death glare. Maybe he became a cop for that and it would be a waste that it wasn't utilized for the sake of justice. Already, he was wondering how many bad guys Jim put away.

"Saying this once, Mr. Sudayev," Jim said sharply, "the whole playboy charm thing that you’ve got going might work for bimbos or himbos or whatever crazies you let inside your pants. Me?" Cue hard scowl. "You do not want hanging off you cause I'm licensed to shoot you for probable cause, sexual harassment one of them. So now, you're either the guy who makes my life easier or the guy who makes my life harder, and trust me, you do not want to be the guy who makes my life harder."

Dimitri blinked, before he said. "Wow, you're just as badass now as you were in college. Maybe even more"

"And you're still a dimwit, yes. Now that we established that's nothing changed since then," Jim quipped, before slid a large portrait photo of a redhead on the table. Dimitri looked over it, raising a brow, "Ariel Atlantica. One of the many daughters of real estate mogul Triton Atlantica."

Dimitri hummed appreciatively. "She’s cute." he appraised.

"She’s dead." The detective deadpanned, "D'you ever meet her? Book signing? Charity event?"

The author feigned a sigh, "It’s possible." He said. "She’s not in my little black book if that’s what you’re asking."

"I wasn't." Jim answered curtly, slapping in a new photo of a much older man. "What about this guy? Claude Frollo. Small claims lawyer."

"Not as cute." Dimitri appraised, "And most of my claims tend to be on the, um, large side." Jim rolled his eyes. "So, what’s this one got to do with me?"

"Frollo was found murdered in his office two weeks ago." The detective then slid him a photo of the redhead's crime scene. The roses and sunflower covered body. "I didn’t put it together until we saw the Atlantica crime scene tonight." 

Dimitri hummed curiously. " _Flowers for Your Grave._ " 

"And this is how we found Claude Frollo. Right out of ' _Hell Hath No Fury_.'" Jim pulled out another photo of Martin Fisk lying face down in a pentagram.

Dimitri blinked before smirking smugly, "Looks like I have a fan."

"Don't count it much of a win," Jim snorted. "Cause it's a really deranged fan."  
  
Dimitri leaned back on his chair, folding his hands behind his head. "Oh, you don’t look deranged to me."  
  
"Huh?"

" _Hell Hath No Fury_? Angry gypsies out for blood? C’mon." Dimitri laughed, moving his arms to cross them instead. "Only hardcore Sudayev groupies read that one."

A tinge a pink made its way to detective's cheeks, but he shook it off and glared at the author. "Do any of these g-groupies ever write you letters?" He asked, pointedly ignoring the remark. "Disturbing letters?"  
  
"Oh, all my fan mail’s disturbing." Dimitri feigned a long-suffering sigh. "It’s an occupational hazard."

"Don't care." Jim rolled his eyes, "About this, I do. You see, in cases like this, we find that the killer attempts to..."

Dimitri finished that up for him, "... Killer attempts to contact the subject of his obsession." He smiled smugly once more, feeling some form of victory as Jim stared at him, somehow in wonder. "I’m also pretty well-versed in psychopathic methodologies. Another occupational hazard. And do you know you have rather enthralling eyes?"

"Sure, whatever you say," Jim rolled said eyes once more. He noticed he's been doing that a lot tonight. He wondered if it's due to the fact the guy knew him from college and he was glad that it doesn't happen often. "So I take it that you won't have any objection to us going through your mail?"

Dimitri shrugged, somehow amazed that the detective hasn't smack him yet. He remembered Jim being one of those types that picked fights easily and didn't hesitate being the first person to throw a punch. "Knock yourself out." He then pointed to the photos, "By the way, can I get copies of those?"

"Copies?" Jim raised a brow.

Dimitri shrugged, "I have this poker game, it's mostly other writers." He said. "Belle Porter, Miguel Gold, you know, best sellers. You have no idea how jealous those would make them.

"Jealous?" Jim narrowed his eyes, "that they're not these victims because they have to associate with you?"

Dimitri laughed at that, "Funny, but no." He said. "That I have a copycat. Oh my gosh, in my world, that’s the red badge of honor. That's the evil villains tavern Hall of fame."

"People are dead, Mr. Sudayev." Jim groused irritably.

Dimitri pursed his lips, "Condolences," he said. "But... I’m not asking for the bodies. Just the pictures."

Jim let's out a long-suffering sigh. "I think we’re done here." He headed out of the room.

Dimitri watched him go, a little bit pleased he’s gotten under his skin and managed to make the guy drop his formality as they did know each other for quite a time in the past. For some reason, their familiarity now despite their short time together in the past had Dimitri feeling... Intrigued.

Very intrigued.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued after Flufftober


	4. Chapter 4

**[12:45, PENTHOUSE APARTMENT - NIGHT]**

Dimitri entered his Penthouse apartment to music. A piano plays in flourish at the background, under the hands of Vlad as Sophie dances along with the music. From the living room he hears the sound of his son's godmother and his agent belting out “ _Paris Holds the Key (to Your Heart)_ ” from that famed musical of his ex-wife's namesake.  
  
" _Paris holds the key to l'amour, and not even Freud knows the cure._ "

" _There's love in the air at the Follies Begere!_ "

" _The French have it down to an art!_ "

" _Paris hold the key to your hea..._ "  
  
Dimitri raised a brow, checking the clock. It was 12:45am and his agent was still within his vicinity. Hopefully, he's distracted enough with Sophie to really give him more grief regarding that deadline.

Sophie can still be heard faintly in the background as Dimitri entered the kitchen. He notices Cornelius at the Island table doing homework.  
  
"You’re missing the late show."

Cornelius smirked, looking at his father lazily. "Nothing I haven't seen before." he said. "I've seen better."

"Or worse. You know they get cheesier with each other every time?"

Cornelius shrugged, "I don't mind much." He said. "Vlad's nice, Sophie's nice; it's good that they make each other happy.

"Okay you," Dimitri said warningly, but there's no real heat to the tone. "enough of the subtle shaming."

Cornelius snickered, "Heh, so you noticed this time too." Then, he sobered up. "But real talk, pop. Vlad tells me that mom's started seeing someone, and she's looking happy. I just want you happy as well."

"I am happy, got all the whipped cream I want." The man said dismissively, crossing to the fridge to grab a can of said cream. Cornelius rolled his eyes as Dimitri shakes the whipped cream can and sprays a mound of it into directly into his mouth. " _C’est apres minuit dans un_ school night. Don’t you turn into a pumpkin or something?"

Cornelius gave him a look, "Not when your dad’s been escorted away by cops." He said leadingly. "How was the slammer? Anyone make you their bitch?"

"Language." Dimitri responded in reflex, even though he knew his son possibly learned the word from him. "And no. After all, it's your old man who makes anyone a bitch for him."

"Gross dad."

"You started it," Dimitri snickered, as he holds the whipped cream above his mouth, offering. "Blowjob?"  
  
His son narrowed his eyes, "Not offered like that, thanks." He said, "Besides, I already brushed."

"Your loss." He gives himself another squirt.

"It's really not." Cornelius said with a lazy smirk.

Then, Dimitri returned the can to the fridge before heading off to the hall leading to his office. The redhead teen followed him.

"So are you going to tell me about it," He asked, tugging on his father's arm. "or do I have to look it up on the fan sites?"

Dimitri rolled his eyes, holding Cornelius by the shoulders and pushing him gently to the side. "Nope." He said, "We had a deal. Surf all the internet you want. Stay off my fan sites."  
  
"Seriously, dad." The redhead frowned, "You're not in any sorts of trouble, are you?"

Dimitri shrugged, "Not more than what's usual, no." He said before grinning. "They want my help on a case."

"A case? Your help?" Cornelius raised a brow, "Okay, I'd sooner believed you'd actually done something this time."

"Rude." Dimitri snorted, going through his bookshelf. "And I'm not kidding. Apparently, someone’s been killing people the way I killed them in my books."

Cornelius blinked. "Well, that’s just sick." He frowned, "Why would anyone do that?"

"Pretty much the party question, kiddo." Dimitri hummed, rummaging through his books. "They've got two, so far."

Cornelius placed a hand on his father's shoulder, "Are you handling all this okay, pop?"

"Yeah. Just mind-boggled." The man sighed, "It’s just so senseless."

The redhead shrugged, "It's murder. Of course it would be."

"No, you're thinking of the word 'Needless', son. Ironically, murder usually makes a great deal of sense." Dimitri pointed out, "Passion, greed, politics. What’s senseless here is the books that the killer chose. _Hell Hath No Fury? Flower For your Grave?_ My truly lesser works." He hummed thoughtfully. "Why would a psychotic fan pick those?"

Cornelius smirked, crossing his arms. "That answers it; he’s psychotic." He took the books from his father and placed them back on the shelves before pulling his father up. "Come on, it’s bed time. You can figure it out in the morning."

Dimitri lets his son drag him to his room.


	5. Chapter 5

**[10:21, POLICE STATION - DAY]**

Jim comes in carrying a box full of ' _Dimitri Sudayev_ ' books. Jack raised a brow, placing down his cup of coffee in favor of scrutinizing why his colleague brought in a bunch of books to the precinct. Especially when they had a bunch of reports and case files to read anyway. Hiccup, on the other hand, looked intrigued.

"Please tell me those are evidences."

"Or books to upgrade the recreation library." Hiccup added, "Could use the new material. I've read everything there four times already."

Jack stared at his partner incredulously. "You overuse your memory magic too much, dude."

"Maximize. And it's photographic memory."

"They're Sudayev's greatest hits." Jim told them instead, "So lucky Hiccup. Because reading them will help us in being familiar with all of his murder scenes so we don't miss any."

Jack crossed his arms, "Yeah, I'll leave that to him. I think I'm going to look them online. Faster that way."

"Oh, nice." Hiccup smirked, opening up a book to the first page. "Even got a signed copy, huh? All that's missing is for it to go out to yours truly." He gave Jim a knowing look.

Jim scowled, snatching the book from him, "Since when did you become such a busybody?"

"Whoa, no kidding." Jack blinked, curiosity getting to him so he checked another book. "This one's signed too. Damn, did you only buy his signed copies? Or, do you go to a book signing event to get yours signed?"

Jim sighed, taking that book too and placing it in the box. "It's just of the genre I like. And I got it on Sale on a thrift store."

"Yes, yes," Hiccup nodded his head sagely. "because anyone would be willing to sell out a good condition book signed by the author to a thrift store. And that's why you're blushing."

Jack started snickering, "No wonder you came down so hard on him last night at the interrogation room." He said. "you're into author guy from college."

"One, I came down hard cause it's my job and two, no I am so _not_ into him." Jim scowled deeply, "The guy's obnoxious. And a dimwit."

Hiccup finger gun pointed at him, "Name calling," He declared, "Sign of the Hawkins stamp of affection."

"Shut up, Fishbone."

"See?"

Jim sighed in resignation. "Just look through them. Online or whatever. Profiling indicates a perp with low intelligence. Someone who has, or thinks he has, a personal relationship with our author. Whoever did this read Sudayev's books, and somewhere in those pages is the answer to where he'll strike next." He said. "So that's where we start."

"Got it, Primary." Hiccup took the previous book he got his hands on. "Just let me get some coffee and I'll get reading. Want anything, Snowflake?"

Jack shook his head, "Thanks babe, I'm good." He said.

Jim didn't even bat an eye, more than use to his friends' sap. "Overland, whatever crime scenes you manage to find in the fan sites, let Haddock know. Save him the trouble from reading through them." He said, "I'll be taking care of postal duty."

"Post?" Jack raised a brow. On cue, Uniforms come in with the boxes of mail. "Wow, is all that author boy's mail?

"His fans love him, almost as much as he loves himself." He rolled his eyes, "Before I head into briefing to read through them, did we hear back from the lab?"

Jack nodded, taking a sheet of paper. "Yeah. And Jamie double checked. Scene was negative for DNA and prints, just like Frollo." He shook his head, "Perp's careful."

"What about Atlantica and Frollo? Any connection?"

Jack hummed, shaking his head.

"Other than your boy there, no." Hiccup said as he came back.

Jim looked up at him, "Excuse me?"

Hiccup thumbs behind me, and across the bullpen next to their break room. Jim sees Dimitri across the way, talking with Captain Stoick Haddock—Icelandic-American, mid-fifties, their precint's gruff, but paternal boss. Not to mention, also Hiccup's father.

"What’s he doing here?"

"Maybe he likes you."

Jim glared at Jack before being called over by the captain. "Captain?" Stoick beckoned him over, and Jim went over, pointedly ignoring Dimitri. "Yes, Sir?"

"Mr. Sudayev's offered to assist with the investigation."

"Really?" Jim deadpanned, before remembering he was talking to. He dialed down on the ' _attitude_ ' he was sure was on his facial expression.

"It’s the least I can do for the city I love." Dimitri smirked, stepping in front of the shorter brunette.

Since he was blocked from view, Jim no longer restrained rolling his eyes in response.

"Considering the nature of the crime scenes," Stoick went on, "I think it’s a good idea."  
  
Jim widened his eyes, he shook his head before leaning to the side to be seen. "Sir?" He started, "can I talk to you a minute? In private." He side-eyed Dimitri pointedly.   
  
"No." Stoick denied flatly, heading into his office.

Jim's mouth popped open, and Dimitri kept his smirk in place. "Shall we?"

**Author's Note:**

> Script helped out and guided **[here](https://scriptline.livejournal.com/16926.html)**


End file.
